Mercury Rising
by I.C. Weener
Summary: Did you order original recipe or extra crispy?


_"That has got to be the gayest jacket I've ever seen."_

\- Jimmy, Hardcore Henry

" _Get out of the car, Astor! Get out of the car or go to hell!"_

\- Michael Champion, Viper

* * *

Vyrginia von L'Sacrifisia held a tiny stone figure to her bared heart. She stood loyally and submissively with her eyes closed as the monks washed buckets of clear elixirs over her body, keeping her head tilted toward the little idol on her breast. She focused on imagining herself with her deity as she was being prepared. She was hundreds of stairs underground, but the fiery orange sun was hanging at its noon position over the ground far above her. All of the worlds were aligned in an event that only occurred every ten millennia.

She slowly lifted her eyelids once she was anointed. An ambiguous smile crossed her lips as the reflections of torches twinkled in her irises. Today she was going to become a god.

* * *

Rory Mercury glided through the clear bright blue and extended her ankle into another flying kick. She flipped backwards with the divine heat from her red heels creating a flaming crescent arch and came back down spinning her polearm in a windmill.

Her opponents were oddly persistent for a bunch of dweebs in oversized bathrobes playing hide and seek behind a tall henge of ceremonial stones. Every time she pounded one of these imbeciles' faces in or left them with a singed bum, more of their hooded friends would come out of hiding to make sure she didn't stray too far out of the center of the arrangement. They should have known never to test a sultry war goddess with a halberd taller than she was. She should have known not to bring her hot little physical manifestation to a negative-polarized dowsing totem on an Octhatic Equinox, but her natural curiosity tended to make her do impulsive things.

The sun reached a specific position high over her ears, causing the shadows cast by the pillar arrangement to all overlap on her. The grass under her heels acted as the face a giant sundial, and the time had just turned Rory O'Clock.

The hooded strangers backed off of their ambush and fell into spots near or on top of the circle of pillars. She waved her polearm to goad them back into the fight, but the nameless men and women remained suspiciously motionless.

Suddenly, the figures all threw out their arms and lifted polished mirrors out from under their robes. Rory's eyes gazed into the eyes of a dozen reflections of herself in the glaring sunlight and went blind.

The war goddess blinked calmly as her senses returned. She looked around in intrigue and suddenly had no interest in fighting these druids. The ribbons on the back of her black hair bounced as her head gazed down toward her boots. Her silent body language said she was impressed with herself.

The vessels had been traded successfully, and now one of the cult's most devout followers had the power of a god in her hands. Only one more thing had to happen to make sure she kept them.

* * *

Rory glanced from side to side in disoriented bafflement. A moment ago, she had been fighting in the sunglight. Now she was standing in the middle of the cold dark.

She was in a lonely cavern chamber surrounded by more of those hooded weirdos holding torches. Her hands were clutching a little stone idol of herself, which she instantly hated because it was sculpted with boobs that were too small and it made her think of how she probably looked around five spring harvests ago.

She was standing stark naked with tangled curtains and altar tapestries that looked alarmingly more blonde than they should have. She shivered from the chilly cave air curving around her body from all sides, and she could see her breath making tiny clouds in front of the bridge of her nose. She shined in the cavern's flickering orange light, but not because of the frilled glossy pleats and laces of her battle gown. Her skin was shining because she was oily.

Really, really oily.

The innocent and confused looks on Vyrginia's face told the monks the incantation had been a success. One walked silently toward her with his torch burning above his head.

The fire was tossed in front of Vyrginia's dripping bare feet as she clutched her stone idol and her expression abruptly changed from bewilderment to horror. The flames skipped through the puddle around her and spread over her in rushing waves of golden quicksilver. They were drawn to her body and her soaked blonde hair like worshipers spreading their adoration.

Rory screamed in mortal agony the likes she had never experienced before in a maiden's soprano voice that wasn't her own. Her spirit was engulfed in flames with the frail naked flesh that had become its prison cage. The goddess of violence, war, and death was offered up as an immolation to herself.

* * *

 _Author's note: This is the eefai cosplay version of Rory. Not the icky yucky pucky lolita canon version, because who would want THAT for an S++ rank receptacle god body. Just say there was a time skip or it's an AU or something. I dunno._


End file.
